


The Wrong Shiro

by 1960somethingBatman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Kuron, Self-Isolation, So much angst, but only at the end, depression before progression, self doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-19 07:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1960somethingBatman/pseuds/1960somethingBatman
Summary: ***Warning, Voltron season 4 Spoilers ahead maybe***No one knew that Shiro was a clone, not even himself. That is, no one except the Black Lion.The Voltron team is in trouble, and if they are to live they must form Voltron. However, Keith's not there, and Shiro must take it upon himself to save them. What the Black Lion shows him will change his life forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all of my beautiful readers! Come, read and enjoy yourselves. Please feel free to drop in a comment if you want. Both compliments and criticism are appreciated, as I'm trying to improve my writing. Please don't shy away from writing criticism where it's deserved. A brutal truth is better than a blatant lie. I'd also appreciate advice on how to navigate the site or whatever. Thanks!

Shiro stood, listening to his friend's worried voices as their situation slowly became worse.

“Allura, I need your help! I’ve got two on my tail!”

Galra drones were swarming Shiro’s team and he could do nothing about it. He felt so helpless, so useless, just standing there and watching it happen, and to top all of it off, his headache had started up again.

“I’m sorry, I can't get to you, they’re all over me.”

If things continued the way they were currently going, they would to lose. They had to form Voltron, and now. Shiro couldn't take it anymore. He spun, pushing through the throbbing pain in his head, and marched off towards Black’s hangar.

“What are you doing?” Asked Coran

“Whatever I can.”

* * *

 

Black’s chair slid forward, slowly gliding Shiro to a halt in front of the controls. The seat felt familiar, yet foreign. He wondered how long ago it was that he had last flown his lion. He hadn't the slightest clue. Time had a way of doing that in space.

Shiro took a deep breath, readying himself, before gripping the handles. He could still hear his friends yelling from their coms. They needed the black lion. They needed Voltron. They needed Shiro. If he didn't do something, they might die. They would die. Zarkon would get the lions, and it would all be over.

Nothing.

“Please!” He begged, “People’s lives are at stake. You trusted me once. Trust me again.”

Shiro paused, not even daring to breathe. Suddenly one of the screen’s lights flickered. Yes! This was it! Shiro leaned forward, anticipating the oncoming battle, but nothing happened. That was it. Just a flicker.

“What? No! Black, please! They’ll die if I don't do something!”

The screen flickered again.

“There! See, you know I’m right. You know they need me. Why won't you just let me save them!”

An image flashed across his mind. It was of himself, strapped to a table, screaming as a Druid injected him with some purple, glowing liquid. The image left, leaving just as quickly as it had came, but it left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. Feelings of hatred and loathing wafted over him as the lights flickered back on again, this time staying on.

Lance’s panicked voice came through Shiro’s helmet, “I’m hit! Allura! Hunk! Anyone, help!”

Shiro didn't have time to think about what he just saw. His team needed him. Black had accepted him, and that was all that mattered. He thrusted the handles forward, blasting through the launch bay doors and taking a direct route towards Lance.

“Lance, I’m on my way!”

“Shiro!” Everyone called.

“Lance, how damaged is Red?” Shiro asked, as he dived in, blasting off the several drones surrounding him.

“Not too bad I think, but she’s not going to be making any sharp turns any time soon.”

“Good.” He eased Black in, grabbing the red lion with her teeth before streaking off to join the others. “Then let’s form Voltron.”

“Aww yeah! Shiro’s back!” Lance cheered. "Go Voltron!"

Their lions soared in the sky, circling around each other in the black canopy of silver stars. It felt wrong. It shouldn't have felt wrong. Shiro tried his absolute hardest to maintain his bond with Black, and to keep the connection with his team, but it felt so, so wrong. Black wouldn't stop sending him waves of malice and disgust, making it clear that she wasn't his. She would never be his. And that had this situation have been any different, any less pressing, he wouldn't have been there. He didn't deserve this.

It was a miracle that they were even able to form Voltron, let alone win the battle. His team didn't notice Black’s outburst either. Perhaps his connection to the team was weaker than he had originally thought.

Black entered the bay faster than she had left it, ripping Shiro’s chair back and practically spitting him out. Shiro stumbled down the ramp, clutching his head as his headache started up again. He could still feel the black lion’s hateful presence in the back of his thoughts as the mouth snapped shut behind him, leaving its two last words still lingering in his mind.

_Not Shiro._

His legs gave out underneath him. A new vision appeared, only this time different. The man in the image was no longer strapped to a table, but instead lying on his side in a dark, violet colored cell, quietly muttering to himself. Feelings of guilt and sorrow and self-loathing crashed into him as he made out the words “abandoned” and “deserve this” from the other him and he knew, just knew that he was seeing this live.

He lay there, dazed as the pieces slowly fit into place. No wonder that Black had rejected him. No wonder that she hated him. It was so obvious now why everything felt so foreign. Why his interactions with Keith seemed so off. Why he had woken up in a Galra ship with hair longer than it should have been, and had escaped so easily. The headache probably had something to do with it as well. He wasn't Shiro. But if that was the case… then who was he?

“Shiro! Hey, Shiro! Are you alright?”

Lance’s voice snapped Shiro back into reality.

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” He said, grabbing Lance’s hand as he helped him up, “Just... tripped. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Said Lance, frowning, “Is, uh, is everything alright?”

Shiro took a step back, pulling his hand from Lance’s grip. “Yeah, everything's fine, why’d you ask?”

“It’s just that, well…” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “You didn't answer your coms, and when I got here, you were just lying there Shiro, and it's not just that. Ever since you’ve gotten back you’ve seemed… distant. You barely escaped from the Galra the first time. It must have been devastating to be back there again. You were half dead and delirious when we found you. Are… are you sure you’re fine? Because we’re here for you man. You know that right?”

“Y… yeah. Yeah, I know. I just… need some time alone.”

“Well… alright then.” Lance turned to leave, “And Shiro?”

“Yeah Lance?”

“Don't be too hard on yourself. I know the Black lion didn’t accept you when you first got back, but she did today. A paladin’s bond can't be broken by something as simple as leaving, I mean, just look at Zarkon! Him and the lions were separated for over ten thousand years! Don't worry Shiro. You were a great leader before, and you’ll be one again. Just give her some time. She’ll come around.”

“Thanks.”

“Any time,” Lance smiled before he turned and left, the bay doors quietly sliding shut behind him.

Shiro couldn't help it. He fell to his knees again as another wave of hatred sliced through him. _Filth! Never replace Shiro!_  It pounded in his mind, making his dull headache feel even worse.  _Should have known! Should have let die! Not Shiro!_

Shiro thought back to Lance. He had told him not to worry. That he had been a great leader before, and would continue doing so. Shiro almost laughed. He wasn't a leader, and never would be. That spot was saved for Shiro. The real Shiro. _Imposter!_  Black screamed,  _Cheap imitation!_

One thing could be said though. Much like the real Shiro, his bond with Black was strong. It felt forced and unnatural, and almost definitely unwanted, but still strong. He didn't simply sense her presence, he heard her words. She actually spoke to him, told him to jump out the airlock occasionally, but he still heard her. Heard every single insult and offense. Every curse and death threat. He heard it all.

Yet, his connection ran deeper than that. He didn't just hear her, he felt her. He could sense her hatred and loathing. He could feel her longing to go back, to realize her mistake and stop herself from saving him. Her hope that he would just die. Drop death then and there just so she didn’t have his undeserving thoughts rummaging through the mind of _Shiro's_ lion.

He felt all of her anger towards him, yet he couldn't feel any back because under all of that fury and malice, was love. Black loved Shiro. She didn't want to replace him. Shiro had been broken and despitefully used just like her. He was so much like her. They had both been betrayed. They had both been abandoned. She swore, when she first accepted him as her paladin, that she would never abandon him. She would never cast him aside. Not like the Galra did. Not like his home World did. No matter how bruised or broken he got, Shiro, _her_ Shiro, would always be hers, and she would be his, and this thing parading around as her paladin, wasn't going to get in their way.

Shiro sat up, removed his helmet and began headed towards the bay doors, pausing only to wipe the few tears starting to form in the corner of his eye. He glanced back to his, no, Shiro’s lion.

“I’ll find him.” He said, straightening his back “I swear on my life that I’ll find him.”

Black stood there, cold and silent. Shiro turned, and headed to the door. It was just as the doors were sliding closed behind him that he heard it, a deep growl coming from the back of his mind.

_You had better._


	2. Chapter 2

The castle doors clicked shut behind Keith, as he walked into the main lobby. “Guys, I…” He paused, just now noticing the hostile atmosphere hanging in the air. He looked away. “I… heard what happened. Do you... know where Shiro is?”

 

“Shiro was in Black’s hangar last time I checked, but he said he wanted to be left alone.” Said Lance, sliding further down on the couch, “You should probably just give him his space.”

 

“I… alright. Thanks, I guess.” Keith said, turning to leave.

 

“Keith.”

 

“Yeah Lance?”

 

“You should have been there today. I know you’ve got other stuff going on, but people could have been hurt, ya know?”

 

“I…” He sighed, “I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re sorry?” Snapped Allura, standing up, “Keith, people’s lives were in danger. We managed to avoid casualties today, but that is not always going to be the case. You cannot bring back the dead Keith, no matter how sorry you are.”

 

“I… I know.”

 

“Then go. I’m sure Shiro would like to have a word with you as well.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith turned, his shoulders slumped and head bowed, and left. He felt awful. Guilt and remorse churning, mixing inside of him into something worse. They were right. Someone could have been hurt. Red _was_ hurt, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t everything. There was also the black lion.

 

He didn’t tell anyone, not his team, and especially not Shiro, but Black still called to him. Keith wasn't her paladin. He knew this more than anyone, and he got the feeling that Black knew it too. She was Shiro’s, and Keith couldn’t have been happier.

 

So then why was she acting so strange now? Was she mad at Shiro for something? Perhaps it was because he left her? Keith didn’t know. He couldn’t tell anything with Black. The messages she tried to send were always just fragments. Bits and pieces of some scrap of thought thrust his way. Occasionally he would get the sense of good, or bad, but that was about the extent of it. The only time that she had really connected with him had been when they had found Shiro.

 

It had been just another, average day in space. The went over drills, spent some time in the training deck, and even saved a couple of aliens from a Galra fighter. Keith remembered feeling joy. True, pure, untainted felicity pouring in on every side. Black feeling proud because she had found him. She had found him. Shiro was finally coming home.

 

What changed since then? Black had seemed so happy that day, only to fade back into that blurred mist of routine indifference. If Keith didn’t know any better, he’d say Black was disappointed. But she couldn’t be, could she? Was Black disappointed that Keith would stop being her pilot? Did their bond really grow so strong in such a short amount of time?

 

No. He couldn’t accept it. Not only did the whole thing feel off, but Black’s presence was so quiet in the back of his mind. His bond with Red had been much stronger than the one he had now.

 

Wait… Now?

 

No. Keith couldn’t take this from Shiro, he just couldn’t. Black had already accepted Shiro. It was over. It had to be over. Yet, deep down he knew it wasn’t. No matter how small, the bond with Black was still there, ever present, ever pesterint. If anything, their bond had grown stronger since Shiro came back. She wouldn’t leave him alone at this point, constantly bombarding him with feelings of _bad._

 

Bad. Why did Black always have to be so vague? That could have been anything: criticism, a warning, a desire, anything. They had been going on ever since Keith had first dragged Shiro into Black’s hangar, but they were especially active today. Keith hoped, prayed, that it wasn’t his fault, that Black wasn’t rejecting Shiro for his sake, but deep down knew it was useless. There was only one real way to keep that from happening, which was what had Keith parked out in front of Shiro’s room.

 

A muffled scream came from the other side of the wall, freezing Keith’s hand inches from the door. “S-Shiro?” Keith asked.

 

The voice stopped abruptly, cutting off mid-shriek.

 

“Are, uh, are you alright in there?”

 

“…Keith?” Shiro’s voice sounded rough and coarse.

 

“I’m coming in okay?”

 

Shiro was lying on the floor, the blanket tangled around his legs. His breathing was light and jagged, his pupils dilated and staring at nothing in particular. “K-Keith?” he repeated.

 

“Yeah, yeah Shiro I’m here.” Keith crouched down, helping him sit up. “What… What happened?”

 

“I-I’m, I-I just, I…” He glanced up, his face looking pale and confused in the dim light of his room. “Where-” he hissed, cutting himself off as he pressed his hand up to his temple.

 

“Shiro!”

 

“‘m fine. Just headache. ‘m fine.” he slurred, clawing hoisting himself back on the bed, “Forgot for a sec. Info just rushed in all at once. Happens.”

 

“Forgot? Happens? Shiro are you alright?” Shiro’s teeth clenched together. “Look, I know you think you can hold all of this in on your own, but you don’t have to.” His brow was furrowed in pain. “Shiro, the team’s here for you. I’m here for you. And we’re only trying to-”

 

At this point, his face was completely twisted up in pain. “Would you just shut up!” Shiro snapped.

 

Keith’s hand froze, half outstretched. He placed it back into his lap. “O-oh… al… alright… s-sorry.”

 

Shiro’s face fell as he glanced up. “No, Keith I…” He sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you-I-I mean I didn’t to snap. I… Look, I know you’re all there for… you’re there for… _me_ , but I, I’m fine. I can handle this on my own.”

 

A long moment of silence passed between them, neither one daring to speak.

 

“Ah, you um…” Started Shiro, “Before did you uh… Did you... want to talk about something?”

 

“Are you… Are you sure? I… I could always come back if you needed me to.”

 

“Keith, I’m sure. You can go ahead.”

 

Keith sat there, circling his thumbs around and around one another with his hands in his lap. “Well… I... “ He bit his lip, “I’m… I’m leaving Voltron.”

 

“What? Keith, no.”

 

“I… I know. I know okay? But the black lion accepted you today. You guys don’t need me anymore. At least, not like The Blade does. I’m not going to be gone forever though. There’s a job The Blade is doing. We’ve located large shipments of Quintessence being transported throughout the galaxy, and we think it might be connected Lotor. The mission will last for several months, maybe a year at most. I… I think I’m going to volunteer.”

 

“B-But Keith, you can’t leave, what if we need you? Something already happened to me once, what if it does again? You need to be here for that.”

 

Keith stiffened. “Shiro, don’t. Don’t even go there. Nothing is going to happen to you. Not again. I don’t know what I’d do if-” His voice cracked, “Look, Shiro, you’re the Black paladin. The lion is yours and yours alone. No one else deserves to lead Voltron. Not Zarkon and… and not me. I’m not going to take this from you. You don’t deserve that. I mean, I barely held this team together the first time. We need you Shiro. You. Not me. And… and besides. Maybe, maybe this will help me learn a bit more about my mom. About myself. I need this Shiro. If you say I have to stay, then I will, but I want to do this. Please?”

 

Shiro grimace, wincing as he glanced away. “Keith I…” he sighed, “Do what you think is right. If that means leaving us then… then I guess you can go. But Keith, if something happens…”

 

“Shiro.” Keith gripped Shiro’s shoulder looking hard into his eyes. Shiro didn’t look up. “I can’t lose you. Not a again. Not a _third_ time.” He smiled, “You should probably get back to sleep. You look exhausted. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Hunk to save your leftovers.” Keith stood and started walked to the door, pausing once he was in the frame, “And it’s alright to tell someone the next time you have a nightmare.”

 

“I didn’t-” Shiro froze, looking up at the stern look Keith was giving him. “I… okay. Next time it happens I’ll… I’ll get someone.”

 

"Good. That's all I wanted to hear." Keith smiled before turning to leave.

 

“Keith." 

 

He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

 

"Be safe.”

 

“I will. ‘night Shiro.”

 

“‘night.”

 

Keith stepped out of the room, the metal door quietly clicking shut behind him. Shiro seemed distant. More distant than usual, at least. Black was behaving strangely too. She kept sending him the sense of _bad_ and bits of negativity _._ Keith hoped what he was doing was right, especially with how Shiro and Black were acting. He felt like he should stay, like something big was about to take place, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Shiro.

 

He continued walking down the hallway towards the lounge, where the other paladins probably were. There he could tell them his goodbyes and leave. Maybe then Shiro would finally be accepted by Black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt brings his weapons to the bathroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeey, so I might start going back and revising some of my later chapters because I'm a perfectionist and no matter how many times I rewrite a chapter it just doesn't turn out well enough, so please go back if you see an inconsistency with the story line because I might have changed something important earlier on.

It had been a long, stressful day with team work and training excursions and so, so much faked smiling. Shiro’s Clone let out a long, relieved sigh as the bay door clicked shut behind him finally leaving him in blissful solitude. He liked people, he really did, but there was only so much of them he could take, and Shiro’s friends were difficult enough without trying to hide a months worth of stolen equipment in one of the only used shuttles in the entire castle. But this was it. His farewells were recorded and the shuttle was packed, other than one, last bag of space food slung over his shoulder. He threw it in the empty cockpit seat and headed to the back for one final filling of fuel (you could never have too much extra fuel) before heading out.

“Hey Shiro, you know where the restrooms are?”

He jumped, dropping the barrel of fuel. The loosely screwed on cap popped off leaving a clear, water like substance spilling out on the floor behind him. He spun around, leaning against the side of the ship.

“M-Matt! Hey! S-Sorry. What was that again?”

Matt. That was good. He was new to the ship. He had no reason to be suspicious.

“Restrooms.” He said with a yawn, “Forgot where they…” he paused, eyes squinting down at the puddle, "You going somewhere?”

Or… maybe not. “Y-Yep. Late night supply run. Coran needed skultrite. Asked me to pick some up for him.”

“Coran sent you on an errand run?” Matt yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late. You should get to bed. Bathrooms aren’t too far from here. Take two lefts. It’s the second door on the right.”

“Hmm…”

“A-Anything else?” Shiro’s Clone asked, trying to ignore the steady bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.

“Yeah… I just… Shiro, you know I can see about a month’s worth of food in there right? And, like, a barrel of whatever you use to fuel those ships spilling behind you, and the fact that you’re obviously trying to pretend like it’s not there. You… do see how suspicious you’re being, right?”

“It… it does look suspicious, doesn't it.”

“Yeah, it kind of does. Especially when you just lied to me. I knocked on Coran’s door just before I came here. He was asleep. And besides, Pidge covered your storage rooms with her tour. You’ve got enough skultrite to last another ten-thousand years, especially since that stuff takes millenniums to decay. So I’ll ask you again Shiro. Where are you going?”

“Matt I…” Shiro’s Clone looked away. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Wouldn't understand? This is… this is about the Galra, isn't it?”

“Isn't everything?”

“I mean, well, ever since I got back you’ve been… distant. Not that you weren't distant before but… God Shiro, does seeing me really put that much strain on you? You could have said something, I could have—”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? I got back yesterday and now you’re just up and leaving? Shiro, we’ve been through hell together. Well, the start of it anyway. I know I was bailed out pretty early on, but, Shiro, if you want to talk about anything prison related then—”

“It’s not that either.”

“Then what! Shiro, you can't keep distancing yourself from everyone. Pidge is worried about you. Everyone is. Even I’m worried about you, and I’ve only been here for, like, two days. And I might not know what, exactly, it is that's bothering you, but I can't stand aside and watch you leave. Again. So I’ll give you one last chance. Tell me what’s going on here, or I swear you’re not going anywhere.”

“I… “ he looked, “I can't, you’d… you’d just… you wouldn't understand.”

“Shiro, it’s alright. Whatever it is, we’re not going to hate you. I’m not going to hate you. We’ve all done things we weren't proud of.” Matt cracked a smile, “Hey, remember back in college? I didn't know you too well back then, I mean even in space we weren't very close, but remember when they just posted the chosen names for the Kerberos mission? Montgomery hosted this huge congratulations party for us, well, you and dad didn't know him too well, so mostly just me, but you were there and—”

“Matt, that's the thing. I don't remember.”

“Well yeah, we got wasted, and you told me—”

“No, you don't get it. I don't remember anything. Not you, not the garrison, not even Earth! I didn't notice until I saw you and then it just clicked and I… Matt, I remember nothing… nothing until… until the arm… but that’s not even true though, is it? It’s not even mine. I mean, I’ve never actually been there. I’ve never actually met you. I know Keith and Lance and the others because they were after that. The data must have started recording once the arm was put on, but everything before is just… just nothing, and what I do have is worth nothing because that wasn't me. It isn't me. Yet I’ve seen it. I’ve seen… I’ve seen personal moments. Stuff in the prisons that I doubt he’s told anyone, but I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it and yet I haven't. It’s… It feels like a violation. My entire existence is a violation, but… you don't have to worry any more. I’m going to fix it. I’m going to get him back. You’ll see. You’ll all see. Once I’m done things will be better. They’ll go back to the way they were. Without me.”

“S-Shiro?” Matt said, taking a step forward as slowly and calmly as he could. “You’re… You’re not really making a whole lot of sense here.” He took another step, “What exactly do you mean by… without you? You’re not planning to… okay. Just calm down a bit and we can talk things over. There’s no need to take things out of proportion. So you forgot Earth. That’s fine. No one blames you. We’ll… we’ll take a trip there. We’ll use Katie’s cloaking to sneak past the garrison and… make you some new memories. With us. So just take it easy Shiro. Just slow down and we can talk. You don't have to—”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!!!” His bayard flashed, shaping into a bow. He drew it, forming an arrow as he pointed it at Matt’s chest. “It’s not… it’s not right. It’s not fair damn it. And don't try to pretend like I don't know what you’re doing. I might not remember you, but I’m not an idiot Matt. I’m leaving. You’re not stopping me.”

“Hey, calm down,” he said, raising his arms as he took another step forward, “no one called you a—”

“Take another step and I shoot.”

Matt froze, “Alright. No walking. Got it. We’ll just talk then.”

“No. No talking. I’m sick of wasting time. I’m leaving. Now. Try to stop me and I’ll fire one in your leg. It won't kill you, but it will sure as hell hurt, and you won't be walking anywhere anytime soon.”

“Think about what you’re doing.” Matt said, stepping forward.

“I’m not joking. Don't make me shoot.”

“Think about the people you’re leaving behind.” Another step.

“Last chance, Matt. One more step and I swear I’ll shoot.”

“Shiro,” he took another step forward. Shiro fired. The arrow hit just below Matt’s knee, but ricocheted. Matt lunged, grabbing Shiro’s human arm and forced it behind him. “Damn it Shiro, stop struggling! I’m trying to help you!” Matt screamed, slamming him into the side of the shuttle.

“I told you not to call me that!” Shiro’s Clone brought his metal arm behind him, forcing his human one down so Matt couldn't break it as he simultaneously slammed the back of his head into Matt’s face and his heel into his crotch. Shiro’s Clone summoned his bayard between his teeth. He turned, hooking the bow’s string around Matt’s neck as he spun, jerking Matt with him. Matt let go. He yanked the bow off his neck, leaping back a few steps and taking out his staff.

“For goodness sake Shiro, I don't want to do this!”

“I won't tell you again. Stop calling me Shiro.” Shiro’s Clone reformed his bow in his hand, his human hand, and smirked. He could get used to this whole bayard thing. Shiro’s bayard Black hissed, but he ignored her. The bayard felt… natural. Like it was made for him, like it was a part of him. In a way, it was, and besides, now he had two weapons.

Matt swung. Shiro’s Clone blocked with his bow but countered with his hand, switching every once in a while to keep Matt guessing. It was useful enough, but he wasn't making any progress. He was slowing down, and Matt was getting considerably better at predicting his moves. But Shiro’s Clone noticed something. Matt’s moves were fasted and more confident now that he had a staff in his hand. It might be because of inexperience with hand to hand.If Shiro’s Clone was to win this, he would either have to move back to use his bow, or in to force Matt to use hand to hand. With how fast and unrelenting Matt was being, he might not let up for long enough to ready, aim, and fire and arrow. No way left but in. Shiro’s Clone looped his bow through Matt’s staff, suddenly lunging forward as he twisted it out of his hand, or, tried to at least.

Matt was stronger than Shiro’s Clone had thought. He didn't let go of the staff, simply sliding his hand further up the shaft and stabbing him with the other end. Matt dropped and sweep kicked his legs out from underneath him, clambering on top of him before he could even think about getting up. Maybe he was a bit better this than he had thought.

Shiro’s Clone was trapped, pinned under the enemy as they spouted off a stream of meaningless words. He couldn't be trapped. Not now. Not like this. His mind went back to the last time this had happened. The last time he had been put in a hold like this. It had been just before… no. No! He couldn't let that happen again. Never again. He could feel his heart speeding up. He could feel it pounding against his chest with the memory of Haggar ordering one of the guards to hold him down as she… did something. Something to his mind. Another one of her “sessions”, he remembered. The image was… sharper, somehow clearer, and he knew, just knew, that it was one of his own. That was… Oh, God, how could he forget. That was when they first grafted his memories, wasn't it? He could still remember his own screams that night, and just how foreign they felt as he lay alone in that cold, dark cell, slowly losing sense of who he was.

Clone whimpered something. He didn't quite remember what it was, only that it was Galran, and that the guard him immediately backed off. Clone’s eyes snapped open. Mercy was rarely ever shown in the Labs, and were taken away almost the second they were given, if they were given at all. He lunged at the guard, sinking his teeth as deep as he could into whatever chunk of flesh he was clinging to. If he had to go back he would make sure as hell that this man would have to be dragged there with him. If Haggar didn't like it, then maybe she shouldn't have given him a locking jaw.

“S-Shiro.” Someone said. The wavering voice sounded weak and scared and… strangely similar to his own. He realized now the significant lack of screaming, or yelling, or Galra soldiers trying to pull him off just… just the voice. “Shiro, please? Can you… Can you, please let go? I’m… wow, that’s… that’s a lot of blood. Can you just... please let go? You’re… You’re killing me man… pun… totally intended.”

Shiro. Clone… Clone remembered a Shiro. Or… was that just another Clone? Either way, this didn't seem like a guard. No one was punishing him for his rebellion, and, well, that took all the point out of rebelling. Clone opened his mouth.

“Thank… thank God.” the person panted, lying back and clutching their bleeding shoulder. “Gonna… need a bit more than just bandages for this… I’m… I’m sorry Shiro but I’m… I can't… damn it” he struggled to pushed himself off the ground, but finally managed to stand, slowly stumbling down the bay, using his hand against the wall to hold himself up as he made his way towards the touch pad by the door.

Clone still sat there, dumbfounded. What had just happened? Clone could remember what happened that night. The guard hadn't backed away. Clone hadn't been given the chance to hurt him, so why… why would this one… Clone straightened as soon as he heard the words “lock down” and “come quick” coming from the being he had just let go. He hadn't been paying attention. Crap. Clone stood, quickly spotting a ship filled with supplies and it’s hatch already open. It was more perfect than he could have asked for.

He bolted for the ship, hopping in and slamming the door shut behind him. He was barely fast enough, streaking past as just as the doors just barely grazed the edgd of the back door. The ship made it several paces out, and yet there still weren't any signs of fighters tailing him. It felt… off. Clone turned on cloaking just to be safe, but still, it felt strange. Since when did the Galra have cloaking on their ships, or not care when one of their prisoners escaped. Well, he did escape that one time, but… oh. Oh. Shiro’s Clone leaned back in his seat, letting the events of the night wash over him. So, he had a bayard now. He liked his bow. Not only was it useful in close combat, but it gave him an opportunity for ranged combat as well, something that wasn't available to him before. But… then there was Matt… and the flashback. Shiro’s Clone didn't know how to react to that. He had… just lost it back there. Shiro’s Clone sighed, freezing as he caught his image in the mirror. Was that—?

He stood, grabbing the small mirror dangling from the ceiling. His eyes were yellow. They were slowly fading back to their normal gray, but they had been yellow. Shiro’s Clone sat back down, slouching further into his seat as he ran a hand down his face. So much garbage had happened today. But… at least he made it out, right? Yeah, he left Matt dying on the bay’s floor, but he had called Shiro’s friends. They’d keep him from dying. Meanwhile Shiro’s Clone would be… No. No, he couldn't use that any more, could he? Haggar called him Clone. He needed… He needed a name.

Shiro means white in Japanese, so maybe… Kuro? No. Definitely not. He remembered them referring to the project as Kuron. He wouldn't just be labeled as their lab rat. Maybe… Sven? No… no. He already stole one Shiro’s name. He didn't have to steal another’s. What about… what about Ryou? That… that might actually work. Shiro’s Cl… Ryou…. liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot actually.

Matt would be okay. Shiro’s friends would make sure of it. In the meantime, Ryou just had to worry about finding Shiro and staying alive. He set a course for his old ice rebel base, and put the ship in auto drive. Ryou was on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Matt's leg is made of metal.


End file.
